Literature
GerIta
Some days I just can't help it. My mind drifts off, even during training, getting lectured by my boss. It always wanders to the Italian. The happy, go-lucky Italian. He's useless, loves pasta, but I can't help but love it. It's practically impossible to live without him. His hapiness makes me happy. I've never admitted it, but I love him. Sure, we're only supposed to be allies, but I think there is something more. And sure, his brother, Romano, wouldn't agree, but hey, it's a choice I have to make. Feliciano... It's a breath of fresh air. He brings joy to even the most depressing day. Useless, useless Italy... Here, I sigh, wondering how I ev
